


Home on Leave

by Sharpiefan



Category: The London Life (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Gen, Regency
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 18:58:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6919204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharpiefan/pseuds/Sharpiefan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain Robbie Fitzgerald is home on leave after his younger sister's first Season</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home on Leave

**Author's Note:**

> This short piece was written as a vignette for the prompt _Robbie Fitzgerald, high school prom OR his sister's debut (either)_

Rotherham Park, June 1805, or thereabouts.

 

Captain Fitzgerald, known to his family as Robbie, had been granted furlough. It was not something that he had specifically asked for – especially at _this_ time of year!  ‒ but the Colonel had told him that he had not had any time away from the Regiment since he'd joined, which was commendable but silly because who knew when they might be sent abroad?  
  
He wished utterly that he was back with his troop, inspecting uniform turn-out or the horses, or their _tack_ , even – anything.  
  
Viola was floating, yes, _floating_ around the room in a haze of memories of this ball and that soiree and Lady P's something-or-other that Robbie didn't catch (thankfully!) and... Really, it made one quite dizzy watching her.  
  
He clasped his hands behind his back, acutely aware of his appearance in the Light Dragoons' dolman with its furlongs of silver frogging, and wished it was an hour later in the day so that he could have a brandy without it looking completely outré.  
  
“It all sounds most delightful, Vi,” he said once he could get a word in edgeways.  
  
Viola stopped dead in the middle of the room and spun to face him, her eyes flashing. “I swear, Robbie, you've not listened to a word I said!”  
  
“Au contraire, dearest,” he began, and was instantly silenced.  
  
Then, pray tell, what did I just say?”  
  
“Lady P made a superb match with... some old goat, and you had an offer of marriage from Lord Somebody-or-other,” Robbie replied promptly, a teasing gleam in his dark eyes.  
  
“You... you...!”  
  
“I... I... what?”  
  
“Robbie! You're quizzing me!”  
  
“Yes, dearest, I am. How shall you ever recover from the delights of Town and resign yourself to the mediocrities of life at Rotherham Park after the dizzy heights of Almack's and meeting the Queen?”  
  
“I did not 'meet' the Queen. I was introduced to Her Majesty – and an awkward business it was, too, trying to walk backwards after curtseying to her. Though it wasn't as intimidating as being interviewed by the Lady Patronesses.”  
  
“I would have thought that nothing could possibly intimidate My Lady Viola,” Robbie said, abandoning his military posture to lean on the mantelpiece and giving Viola a look of amused innocence.  
  
“Oh, Robbie – you should have come. Nobody would have held a candle to you in your uniform. Shall you join us next year?”  
  
“I shall have to ask my Colonel,” her brother replied, privately hoping that the regiment would be warned for a foreign station a long time before next Season rolled around. Unlike his sister, he did not think he could cope with balls and soirées and adoring girls throwing themselves at him night after night.


End file.
